Only
by Star of Recca
Summary: the beaming Sendoh Akira, the frowning Rukawa Kaede. is basketball really the only thing on their minds?
1. Dreams

Only

  
Disclaimer: I wish I /did/ own Slam Dunk and all the chars in it. But I don't.

  
_Dreams_  
  
"Psst, Sendoh-san, wake up!" I raised my head to regard my classmate drowsily, as he nodded frantically towards our rapidly advancing teacher. I smiled, shook my head, and propped my head up on one elbow as I stared off in the direction of the chalkboard, pretending to be paying her rapt attention. She seemed to be satisfied, because she gave a brisk nod and turned back to whatever she had scribbled on the board. Good, I can go back to my dreaming.  
  
Yes, believe it or not, the great Sendoh Akira, Ryonan's Ace, straight-A student, likes to sleep. Particularly in class. Somehow I always leave that out when people ask me about my hobbies, though. I only tell them about fishing.  
  
Basketball? That's not my hobby. It is my life. It's made me who I am today, and has more or less described my social circle as well. On the court is where I met everyone important to me, besides my family.  
  
Hobby: sleeping. Sounds... familiar.  
  
Basketball is how I met him. At first, I just had a tremendous amount of respect for him. The way he dribbles, passes, shoots; it's like magic. Everything done in one flawless, liquid motion. I knew they weren't kidding when they referred to him as Shohoku's Ace. Super Rookie, Rukawa Kaede.  
  
Later, I got to know him better. Yes, via those famous one-on-ones we have. I swear half of Kanagawa has somehow got wind of them. The other half isn't interested in basketball. When you play someone one-on-one, you get to know them much better than if you played them in a game. In a game, it's about two teams. One on one, it's just me and you.  
  
Definitely not a simple person. After a while, you realise that he doesn't talk much, not because he has no opinions, but because he has so much to say. His brain works faster than his lips can. It's not a matter of pride, but of respect; he knows better than to tick others off with clever remarks that are all too true. Most others, anyway.  
  
He's not emotionless, or passive. I can see everything he feels, everything he thinks; it's all in the deep blue eyes, displayed with such intensity that the passion scares me sometimes, even now. Kitsune's eyes. It's easy to get distracted when playing against him. Yet, I dare not make it too obvious when I watch his gaze, lest he read my own.  
  
He's not really what everyone else thinks he is, you know. Playing in Shohoku for his own glory, that's not true at all. He does care, though he doesn't like to show it. But people just don't see that, they just call him --  
  
"An arrogant bastard." Shrugging, he leans back on the fence, hands clasped behind his head. One hand rests atop the ball we just used, unwilling to let it go even after the game. "Let them say what they like," he adds, raising an eyebrow in my direction, expression unchanging.  
  
That's right, say or think whatever you want of him. Just don't get between him and basketball. Basketball is his first priority, and his only love. There's no place for anything else in his heart, or anyone else. I like to consider myself his friend, perhaps his only true friend, and still I know that he only spends time with me for the sake of basketball. Nothing can get his attention away from it. Basketball is his life, too.  
  
Oh, and sleeping, of course.  
  
Which brings me back to where I started. Strange, that Sendoh Akira likes to dream. But well, if reality doesn't work out for you, the land of dreams is a good place to escape to.  
  
Only in my dreams will I be able to take his attention completely away from basketball. Only then do I have the faintest chance of taking first place from basketball in his heart and mind.  
  
Only in my dreams that I have the courage to look into his eyes without fearing that he will see through me. Only then will I dare to stop smiling, and let my eyes tell what my soul feels.  
  
Only in my dreams do I dare to call him Kaede, no more Rukawa-kun. Only then can I hear him whisper in response, Akira.  
  
It is only when I dream, that I can smile softly at him... and see his smile in return.  



	2. Two

Only

  
Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't own Slam Dunk.

  
_Two_  
  
Somewhere in the north of the Kanagawa district, someone else was also sleeping. The difference was, no one bothered to wake him, like Sendoh had been by his classmate. Or rather, nobody dared. Not even the agitated, bespectacled old man in the front of the classroom. Oops, there goes another piece of chalk with a snap.  
  
Fortunately, the bell rang at this point. As chattering, giggling students quickly gathered their things and fled the desks, someone slumped over in his seat at the very back of the classroom began to stir himself. Very slowly.  
  
Slender fingers grasped the doorknob and let their owner out of the stifling room. With a yawn, the tall boy lazily sauntered the distance to the indoor basketball court, empty hands shoved deep in his pockets. He never brought anything to class anyway; he'd never use it. Lesson time was for sleeping, to build up energy for training and playing basketball.  
  
The same fingers quickly exchanged shirt and trousers for a tank top and shorts upon arriving in the locker room. Laces on the Air Jordan shoes he was so proud of were firmly knotted. One hand reached to push open the door to the court while the other absently pushed raven bangs out of his face momentarily, only to have them fall back over his eyes.  
  
Mop. Clean, clean, clean. A scowl at a person in the way, a muttered "do'ahou" as Sakuragi chose to wave his mop around while making loud declarations, further testifying to his obvious lack of simple intelligence.  
  
Soon enough, the team was told to gather. Jogging around the court, lay-up lines, practice matches against respective teams. He did everything like he always did, every other day of this life. With the silent, fierce determination that was Rukawa Kaede. Whose goal was to be the best basketball player, not just in Kanagawa, but in the whole of Japan.  
  
To him, there was only one thing standing in the way of that, right now.  
  
Sendoh Akira. I'll beat you yet. I'll beat you today. Every day, I'm getting better... you said so yourself, just yesterday. I finally got you to admit that I'm improving, while we were resting against a bench watching a group of kids take each other on after our last one-on-one.  
  
He frowned, then. Sendoh had given him a strange look as he'd complimented him. Almost apologetic, or sad.  
  
Ch'. Probably realising that I can be better. That I /am/ better. I didn't make basketball my life for nothing.  
  
His train of thought was broken as a whistle blew. Practice was over. Now he could go take a quick shower, grab his bike, and meet Sendoh at what Rukawa had come to think of as /their/ court. And today, he was going to win.  
  
Somewhere in the southern part of Kanagawa, that very player was slowly towelling his dripping hair dry. Grinning, he reached for his comb and gel, restoring his cheery spiked image before the large mirror in the Ryonan showers. At a shake of the head and a chuckle from Koshino, Sendoh merely winked and widened his smile.  
  
Shohoku's probably done with their training too. So he's probably on his way right now to meet me. And he'll be too focused on basketball to remember to eat. I know him. Maybe today, he will finally agree to let me take him out for dinner. Must remember not to get distracted by him today, he's really getting better. More graceful, more accurate. And those eyes...  
  
Another laugh from Koshino at the vanity of Ryonan's ace shook Sendoh awake from his confused thoughts. Comb, gel, and basketball were rapidly shoved into the same bag, and the bag itself heaved onto broad shoulders in the same breath as Sendoh exited, to smiles and waves from his teammates. He flashed them all another beam; then large strides took him gradually closer to his destination. Their court.  
  
Two schools, one district. Two teams, one sport. Two aces, one game.  
  
Two people. Different thoughts.


	3. Smiles

Only

  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Slam Dunk is not mine.

  
_Smiles_  
  
He felt him before he saw or heard him. Felt the strong, cheerful presence that was gradually becoming familiar, although he never liked to admit it. A slant of the blue eyes towards the left proved him right, as he glimpsed a tall head of spikes closing the gate to the court, then a muscled arm setting down a bag next to his own on the bench. Still, he pretended not to notice, affecting intense concentration on the ball in his hands. 

"Hey, sunshine," came the breezy greeting, as Sendoh flashed Rukawa a cheeky beam. You're early, again. 

Rukawa ignored him. Knuckles clenched tightly around the orange ball; suddenly, he sprang into action, dribbling furiously down the court, towards the basket. Just outside the three-point line, the boy stopped his advance, dribbling the ball behind him as if facing a defender. A fake to the right, then he shot. The ball went in cleanly as Rukawa finally turned to face Sendoh. 

"You're late," he told the older boy with a scowl. Don't call me sunshine, baka. Just c'mon and play already. First to... "20," Rukawa said over his shoulder as he bent to retrieve his basketball. 

Sendoh nodded, smile still intact. So intense, Rukawa-kun... "You start. After all, I was late," he grinned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. His consideration merely earned him a snort, as his rival nodded and took his place at the centre line, facing the basket again and dribbling slowly. He picked up the pace. The real game began. 

_"Why do you play with him, anyway?"_ Sendoh could hear Koshino's indignant voice at the back of his mind, as the taller player stole the ball and tried to shoot, only to have the shot blocked by a certain other boy. _"You know that will only help him improve! Don't you want to beat him to the next IH, /Captain/?"_ Fake left, fake right, fake shot, dribble past, shoot. Two points for Sendoh Akira. 

Rukawa was not to be outdone. A neat three-pointer, almost before Sendoh could blink. The Ryonan player grinned again, to himself this time. 

_"By challenging me, he's telling me he wants to talk to me."_ He remembered what his response to Koshino had been; the words, the sound of his own voice was imprinted in his brain, to re-surface every time he thought about Rukawa. _"And I intend to stick around till I find out what it's all about."_

Point after point. Both played on, passionately aware only of the game, of winning. Or so it would seem. 

"Good game, Rukawa-kun," Sendoh smiled, wiping sweat off his face with a towel. Legs lowered body till he was comfortably resting on the ground, back leaning on the fence. Reaching for his water-bottle, he smirked inwardly as dark eyes watched his silent companion copy his movements, slouching against the thick metal wire, long fingers grasping a towel, patting a sweat-drenched face dry. 

It was dark. Sendoh had won again. Night time, when your feelings are supposed to be at their most raw and sincere. City lights shone faintly in the distance. The time when people speak their hearts and not their minds. 

What is it, Rukawa? What is it that you want to tell me, that makes you agree to meet me, time after time? Does beating me, becoming the best player in Japan, really all that you want? No, I don't dare to hope... that you like me too. But, have you ever thought about... 

"What you're going to do after that?" The older boy spoke the last of his thoughts out loud. Glare met with amused smile as the Shohoku ace turned to regard him. "What are you talking about, Sendoh." 

"I mean... you want to beat me so you can be the best player in Japan, right?" 

"Hn." 

"And when you do, what next?" 

A short silence ensued. Then Rukawa fixed his deep gaze on Sendoh's, causing the taller boy to flinch involuntarily, before forcing himself to relax and grin encouragingly. Mentally locking his mind so that Rukawa could not read it. "America." 

America? Is that what you want? I thought you were happy here. I thought by challenging you, I could make you content to play on with me. Now I'm playing with you, helping you to improve your skills on court... just so you can leave me? 

Abruptly, Sendoh stood up, the smile wiped away along with the beads of perspiration on his forehead. As Rukawa watched, he flung his towel, his bottle, and his heart into the large sports bag, zipping it quickly, holding the zip down tightly so that nothing could escape out of it. He hefted the bag onto his shoulder, feeling the ominous weight of it banging against his strong back. Knuckles showed white, showed how hard he was trying to keep his feelings inside. 

"Goodbye, Rukawa-kun. Ganbatte." The ace player of Ryonan High School turned on his heel and left the court, leaving his rival staring blankly after him. Leaving his smile behind him. 


	4. Silence

Only

  
Disclaimer: Slam Dunk is mine. In my dreams.

  
_Silence_  
  
The night is totally silent. Almost eerie.  
  
Rukawa Kaede never has problems sleeping. Heck, the problem is staying /awake/. Dropping off to sleep is a reflex action, something that happens the moment there's nothing basketball-related to occupy the one-track mind.  
  
Something's different tonight.  
  
I can't sleep.  
  
I've been tossing and turning on my bed for the past hour or so already. I've covered my eyes with the pillow, with the blanket. I've tried switching positions. I've even tried counting sheep; my sheep make dunks instead of jumping over fences, though. Nothing works.  
  
Every time I think I'm finally going to fall asleep, a familiar face flashes across my blurry vision, clearing it again. A familiar face, with an unfamiliar expression. It's the same deep blue eyes, the same spiky hair. So what's different?  
  
The smile. It's not there anymore.  
  
It's so quiet.  
  
I don't get it. I have /never/ seen Sendoh without his smile... till now. Even after Ryonan lost to us, he was able to muster a grin, false though it seemed. But at least he managed to make the effort, and succeed somewhat. So why? Why did it disappear so suddenly, when all I said was one simple word?  
  
America. Yes, that is my dream. To go to America, where the best are. To play with them, train with them, /be/ one of them. I want to be the best. First in Kanagawa, then in Japan, then in the world. I might not be /the/ best, but I want to take the chance. At least I tried, right? I've learnt that it's useless thinking about what might have been. The best you can do for yourself is to see it through to the end. If you love something enough, don't let anything or anyone get in your way. No matter how great the risks, or how small the chances are, just do it.  
  
Maybe that's why my favourite brand is Nike. Hn. Baka Kaede, what are you thinking? You're supposed to /sleep/. Why is that so hard to do tonight?  
  
Sendoh is my /rival/, dammit. There's no reason I should be so affected by him. His strange mood. The way his blue eyes clouded over. That cheerful smile slipping away...  
  
K'so. This is not helping.  
  
Somehow the silence is making it worse. Why did my walkman have to run out of batteries today of all days?  
  
I turn over again and thump my pillow. Sigh. Another thump. More tossing. Kick off the blanket 'cause it's getting hot. Then pulling it back up again as I start to feel a slight chill. I shake my head and sit up.  
  
So many thoughts running through my head. I'm so confused. Why did he walk away from me so suddenly today? It's not like him to leave without a chirpy goodbye. Why did he stop smiling? It's not like him to frown. That's /my/ job. And... why the hell am I even thinking of him so much that I can't /sleep/?!  
  
But the hurt in those blue eyes...  
  
I give up. I throw off the covers and scramble off the bed. Head towards my desk and grab my cell phone. Fingers press the rarely-used buttons, almost like they have a mind of their own. It's certainly not /my/ will. Since when do I ask people for anything? I don't even know why I /own/ a cell phone. Pause. Are you sure about this?  
  
I give in. I dial the only number that's stored in my phone.  
  
A voice answers on the third ring. A voice that sounds so familiar, and yet there's something different. Perhaps I've just never heard it over the phone before. And then I realise... this is the first time I've ever called anyone of my own accord. No, it can't be just the slight static that makes the voice sound strange. A voice that sounds strangled.  
  
A voice that sounds... dead. "Hmm."  
  
"Sendoh."  
  
A silence. Only a physical silence. For though there are no words spoken, I hear the voices in my head. I make out just one word amongst the jumbled thoughts: "Why?"  
  
A silence. I don't even hear breathing. Not from the other side, and not on mine.  
  
A silence. As yet unbroken.  
  
"Why?"


End file.
